Of Pseudonyms & Suit Ties
by Pronghorn.Of.Prophecy
Summary: It's Jumin's route but MC is a writer for a gossip tabloid. Oh, and MC is also a guy. ;)


"_Yeshh, Volly, I geit eht!_" I rush out the door, trying to put my jacket on while dragging my bag with my teeth and my phone carefully smushed between my shoulder and my ear. "I'malfaysate, fvuteht's cuz I giffuh fvest vrsults!"

"You shouldn't talk with your mouthful, Evans, _God _… I feel bad for your mother, you're a fucking handful at twenty-four and I can only _imagine_ how you were as a child," he replies, probably rubbing his temples and leaning back in his stupidly expensive office chair. (_It's red and it swivels and I want one._)

I spit out the bag strap and hold the phone to my ear while putting on the other sleeve of my jacket, "Gimme a break, ok? I'm practically _Listless' savior_! _Without_ my smartass, you'd have no readers!"

"Hey watch it, _with_ that smartass, you'll dig your own grave."

I sling my bag over my shoulder and lock the door to my apartment, rolling my eyes, "Oh _really?_ The worst that could happen is me getting fired, but if anyone's getting fired it's gonna be Joanna. It's _nepotism_ what you're doing, everyone knows she sucks absolute ass and I'm _not_ talking about yours."

Wally laughs on the other end and I can officially say that I've successfully gotten myself out of trouble this morning.

_Two days in a row, let's gooooo~!_

"Watch the inappropriate jokes, hotshot, you're getting cocky."

"Mhmm, so who's making inappropriate jokes _now?_" I smirk as I take the steps down two by two and start mocking his voice, "_Watch yourself or you could be out of a job, Wally._"

He scoffs but I can sense that underlying insecurity of his, "Whatever, Evans, just get your scrawny ass to work."

_My smile brightens just a bit more._

"Already on my way, boss."

The train's rather empty this morning and the people are ordinary. An old lady with a nice purple hat, a mother and her child, a cute couple, some dude with a rad-looking bike … It's quiet.

_And I don't like it very much._ It's 12:19 P.M. and the world is _still_ boring?

"Mind if I sit here?"

Lost in my daze, I nod before I look and immediately regret it. It's some goth dude with hair so pastel it's almost white and a spiked choker. He sports significantly light clothing for a late day in January, but who am I to judge?

(_I'll never understand high-fashion anyway._)

He takes a seat and I pay him no heed.

"Do you take the train often?" he asks, his voice muffled is through his mask and at first I wasn't even sure he spoke at all. He stares out the windows across from us rather than speaking directly to me, slouching in his seat with his hands in his pockets.

I keep facing the windows too, pulling my bag closer as I try to match his laid-back aura, "Usually. To get to work n' stuff. Uhh, how about you?"

I glance at him and he shrugs, "I don't get out much."

Fighting back the urge to respond, '_So that's why you look like a vampire'_, I go for something simpler (and much more polite), "Ah, well that's a shame."

"Not really." his voice takes on a playful tone and even though he hasn't moved a single muscle, his whole demeanor seems to change in a split-second. "_I already live in Paradise._"

I frown, carefully edging away from him and closer to the car doors, "Like … Hawaii?"

(_I mentally facepalm. He's too pale for Hawaii, dumbass!_)

The stranger lets out a quiet laugh, "No … not exactly. But you'll get what I mean soon enough."

The doors hiss open and the overhead speakers cheerily announce the stop, "_Hongdae Station, you have arrived!_"

"Oh, this is my stop," I quickly get up, feeling uncomfortable and in the mood to get to work for once in my life. I flash the stranger a polite smile and make for the door as I hastily wave back, "It was nice meeting you, but I've–"

"_Wait,_"

I stop and turn back, sure that he's gonna try something on me and I'm gonna end up wallet-less and with a pair of broken glasses. Instead, I find him holding my phone out to me as if to return it, a sort of worried look in his eyes.

I can only stop and stare at him.

"I believe this is yours," he says but I just can't focus on that.

_He has mint … eyes?_

"Well? Aren't you gonna take it?" he raises an eyebrow and I'm hypnotized. (There's no way his eyes are _mint_, maybe I'm just wearing the wrong glasses, that's gotta be it … )

"Uh, I … uh, y-yeah," I take it from him and look away, trying to lose eye contact. (_Are they colored contacts? But they look too real, what-_) I don't know why, but that color makes me both giddy and nervous at the same time. "Um, thanks."

He nods and then sits back down, facing the windows with his hands in his pockets once again, "No problem. Have fun at work or wherever you're going."

"Yeah … sure will," I tuck my phone in my pocket, making sure to zip it properly this time (even though I could've sworn I zipped it right to begin with) and leave just before the automatic doors shut.

I stop a safe distance from the train, looking back through the car windows to catch another glimpse of the goth stranger with piercing mint eyes, but he's gone. Like he wasn't even there to begin with.

_Like a ghost._

I jump when the train's whistle blows, signaling its departure.

I shake my head and square my shoulders, my eyes glued to the exit as I speed walk away from the station, "_Jesus Christ, I'm never taking the train ever again …_ "

"What happened to you? It looks like you've seen a ghost or something." Joanna's already sitting on my desk when I walk in, sipping her overpriced coffee like she can afford it.

I glare at her while I take off my jacket and begin setting up for the day, "I'll be seeing _your_ ghost if you don't get off my desk."

She clicks her tongue at me and frowns, "Come on, Cily, it's my break! Humor me for a bit, yeah?"

"Don't call me 'Cily', it sounds like some terrible nickname for Miley Cyrus." I take out my laptop and sit down as I shove my bag under my desk, "And shouldn't you be bothering Tyler today? I thought I had your seduction schedule mapped out perfectly."

She laughs like I'm kidding, "Tyler's not here today and you make for better conversation."

I let out a deflated sigh and take a seat in my (crappy) desk chair, "Sure, whatever."

"Anyways, Head Honcho wants you in his office," Joanna purrs, putting her coffee down and leaning back on her palms.

"I know that," I roll my eyes. "Do you have any _important_ information to give me or are you just here because no one else wants to deal with you today?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist, geez," she hops off my desk and rolls her eyes. "He said he wants to see you as soon as you get in, so it's _gotta_ be something important."

I get up and tuck my laptop under my arm, "He's probably just gonna lecture me and then praise my brilliance, but _sure_, think whatever you want."

"Hmm, whatever then," she loses interest quickly and heads back to her own desk. "Good luck, Cily."

"Jesus, _fuck_, just shut up … " I mutter, knocking on Wally's office door. I take note that his blinds are closed.

_Hmm … _

"Come in," he answers.

I put on my best smile and enter, "Sup Wally, you wanted to see me?"

"Well if it isn't the man of the hour, _Mr. Cilan Evans_," he swivels in his red office chair like a pompous villain in some cliché superhero movie. Further proving my point, he checks his watch for show, "You're a few hours late, but still capturing everyone's attention, aren't you?"

I scoff and smirk, then take a seat across from him, "No surprise really, I told you I get the best results."

"_That's not what I'm talking about, Cilan,_" he uses my first name and suddenly I'm uneasy.

I play it safe and drop the attitude for now, "Ok, well then sorry I'm late. Is that what this is about? I just missed my alarm and I got kinda lost on my way here because I was distracted by a mint-eyed stranger and-"

"It's not that," he shakes his head and I'm gripping my laptop for dear life.

_Dear God, if this is some sort of elaborate prank to get back at me for my stupidly sassy quips and untimeliness, I'm literally going to throw my laptop at him. I don't care if I break it, I'll just buy a new one, I have the money._

Wally's face is unreadable as he says, "We have reason to fire you."

… _The fuck?_

I try to laugh but the panic rings out clear as day, "Oh sure! Like you'd fire your _best_ employee out of the blue _right_ when you start gaining popularity because of _his_ efforts and his efforts, _alone!_ Real funny, Wally but-"

"Cilan, you're fired."

I'm out of my chair and pacing back and forth in front of his desk in seconds, "Ok, let's get this straight, I spent two months working my _ass_ off to write interesting articles for this company and then when I work _another_ two months trying to publicize the finished product and _actually_ get us popular and then proceed to go _even further_ with my work, _you fire me?!_"

"Cilan-"

I spin around and slam my hands on his desk, "And what's this '_reason'_ you have for firing me anyway? I've done nothing but be a cute, little, devoted _puppy_ to _Listless_! Sure, I'm not the best co-worker, but I'm certainly not as bad as some of those _cretins_ you like to call 'journalists'!"

He clears his throat and acts as if I'm _not_ completely flipping my shit, "The employees don't feel comfortable working with you anymore."

I roll my eyes, "So? I don't feel comfortable working with them either, they're just gonna have to get used to it! What is this, preschool?"

"They don't feel comfortable because you're _gay_, Cilan."

I open my mouth to argue, but I seriously wasn't expecting _that_ to be the reason. "I have no idea what you're talking about," I bluff.

Wally pulls a couple of envelopes from a desk drawer and slides them across the table like some kind of mafia boss offering up the details of a new target. I gloss over the stamps and the exquisite penmanship but I already know what they are without having to open them.

I fall back in the chair and scowl at the ground, "_How did you get those._"

"Someone found these and copied their contents, then spread them throughout the office," Wally stares at me like some freak at the circus, "The details are _explicit_ evidence of your-"

"_Do you know this 'someone'?_" I ask through gritted teeth.

He pauses to clear his throat, "The papers were given anonymously to everyone at once so no one knew who had copied them in the first place."

"_Oh bullshit,_ you set this up didn't you?" I choke out a bitter laugh, desperately trying to maintain an arrogant, indignant attitude and failing as I snatch the letters from his desk and tuck them safely away in my laptop. "You _knew_ I was gaining favor around here, _they all knew,_ so who'd you get to go through my shit, huh?"

His eyes widen in shock but anger's quick to follow, "I've done _no_ such thing-"

"It was _Joanna_, wasn't it?" I glare at him as the puzzle pieces fall in place. "She would've gone through my shit with or without your approval, but she got you in on it because _you'd_ benefit most if I got fired."

_That's why she put on that whole show at my desk not even five minutes ago!_

"You're just jumping to conclusions," he tries to dismiss my accusations but his body language reads like a book.

"_You're pathetic,_" I scoff and head for the door, "_Fuck you, Wallace._"

I storm out of his office, not caring if I make a scene because I already know everyone would be staring anyway. Joanna seems to have resumed her spot on my desk, smiling like the Cheshire cat.

"What's up, Cily? You don't look too hot," she's practically asking me to smack that grin off her face.

I ignore her and start shoving whatever I think is expensive into my bag, "Can it, bitch, I'm busy."

She feigns innocence, "Oh no, did something bad happen?"

"I said, _can it._"


End file.
